


Wait...

by stut_ter



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-24
Updated: 2013-02-24
Packaged: 2017-12-03 10:28:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/697280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stut_ter/pseuds/stut_ter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set a week after TFT, Blaine needs reassurance that Kurt liked what they did and wants to do it again.  Which, of course, Kurt does.</p>
<p>Following the NAGERTUTWP rules, there is no penetration.  Hehehe...</p>
<p>Um, I also killed Jude accidentally when I told her the outline?  *kanye shrug*</p>
<p>Not beta'd because I have no patience!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wait...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mickeyrandy3](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=mickeyrandy3).



“So you liked it?”

Kurt rolls his eyes and sighs affectionately, adjusting his covers and looking around his dark room. It’s been six days since they had...gone south of the equator and Blaine has asked him the same question six times.

“Like I said yesterday, Blaine, yes.”

He waits, knowing the next question. He could count it down, even.

“And...you want to do it again?”

Kurt smiles to himself because _yes_ , he really, really does. 

“Yes, Blaine, I do.” he says, like every other time. But then-

“A lot.”

This time he hears Blaine’s breath hitch and time seems to slow down a little while he waits for Blaine to be brave and say what he’s thinking.

“Are you thinking about it right now?”

Kurt bites his lip and nods to himself.

_Blaine’s eyes, wide and dark, shining as he slips his hand down Kurt’s naked stomach, never leaving Kurt’s own as he slips his hand, shaky-hot, under the elastic band of his underwear. Then gripping, loose and perfect as Kurt’s hips buck-_

“I am...I can’t _stop_ thinking about it, Blaine, so yeah. I want to do it again.”

Blaine groans and Kurt hears it, the soft rustle of fabric. It makes him feel...bold.

“What are you doing?” he asks, his own cock hard in his flannel pants. Blaine huffs out a laugh, caught.

“I’m, um-”

“Don’t.” Kurt’s voice is sharp and warm; a command. “Don’t touch yourself. I-”

He stops to listen to Blaine’s breathing, short and ragged, and hopes he’s right about this thing that’s been in his chest all week.

“You can but...tomorrow. With me. I want to see and...help.”

He’s met with silence and for the briefest of moments Kurt’s afraid he’s done the exact wrong thing, exposing this little fantasy of his, until Blaine speaks again.

“Okay...I- jesus, Kurt.” His voice is low, rough, and Kurt can see Blaine in his bed, willing himself to calm down and it _thrills_ him, playing at this control with Blaine. “So hot-”

“You like it?” he asks, wanting to be sure.

“I _love it_.” Blaine answers and so Kurt smiles as he steers the conversation elsewhere.

***

Blaine has literally thought of nothing else all day long.

He considers himself a patient guy, really. He doesn’t act on carnal urges like, he supposes, many other boys do because he wants to be a gentleman and he wants to honor both himself and Kurt.

But holy shit is he broken today and it’s all his wicked, horrible, _glorious_ boyfriend’s fault.

It’s not like he masturbates ten times a day or anything, but this week the urge had... _increased_ quite a bit. The memory of Kurt’s hands and face and, god, the _sounds_ he had made fresh and just right _there_. Add to that the confirmation that Kurt had liked it, too, and _wanted to do it again_ and his libido damn near _sang_ all week.

This new restriction, though, has him on his theoretical knees with lust.

And Kurt isn’t helping.

He had come in, a confident smile on his lips, with his corset pants and tucked-and-rucked white shirt. 

Any other day Blaine would be okay. He would notice, yes, and compliment his boyfriend.

Not think of all the ways he can take it off - and quickly.

He makes it through the day, into the navigator, and up Kurt’s stairs before he asks, blurting it carelessly.

“Do you want to do it now?”

Kurt turns to him, wide eyed, before he laughs and nods, motioning to his chaise.

_His chaise?_

He walks to the padded bench, trusting Kurt, and then sits, waiting.

“How about you take off your shoes and shirt, okay? I will, too.” Kurt says, and then lifts his boot to his desk chair to start unlacing.

Slowly.

Blaine watches from under his lashes, working his boat shoes off and then pulling at his tie, loosening it and freeing the knot before unbuttoning and shrugging off his shirt. He sits, sock-footed and bare-chested, feeling utterly ridiculous as his erection tents his pants.

Kurt finishes one boot and then glances at Blaine, his eyes widening and a cheshire smile on his face. He works more quickly at his second boot, his eyes never leaving Blaine’s, and talks to him while he works.

“You look amazing right now, you know.”

Blaine’s breathing tries to quicken, but he tamps it down, trying to maintain some modicum of control. Kurt’s eyes trace the planes of his body, lingering on his arms, his stomach, the soft trail of hair leading into his pants, and he knows he’s failed, his chest rising and falling as Kurt’s eyes take him apart. 

“Kurt, please-” he begins, a whine staining his voice, his hips from rutting gently at nothing. Kurt says nothing and instead unbuttons his own shirt. Blaine wants nothing but to touch; to trace each of Kurt’s ribs with his tongue and make Kurt _beg_ -

“Straddle the chaise, Blaine.”

He does so, and quickly, settling himself wide-thighed on the bench and waiting for Kurt to tell him what to do next, a complex tangling of want mapping the contours of his body. 

His eyes track Kurt as he crosses the room and comes to a stop in front of him, Blaine’s chin angled up to watch as Kurt settles down close, letting one knee press into the bench between Blaine’s legs, his fingertips tracing down Blaine’s cheeks until his jaw is cradled, perfect.

Blaine expects words, something, but gets none before Kurt’s lips, sweet-soft heat, are pressed to his own and opening his mouth, his tongue seeking and taking Blaine’s breath. Kurt kisses him soundly, Blaine’s jaw gripped tight as his fists clutch at Kurt’s hips, dropping when Kurt’s hands slip down and unbutton his pants, the zipper loud in the silence.

“Show me,” Kurt whispers as he pulls away, slipping his knee off the chaise and settling himself hard-flush against Blaine’s back, skin-on-skin as Blaine shakes and rushes to comply, bringing his hot-hard cock out into the cool of the room.

_”So hot all on your own,”_ Kurt whispers, right into his left ear, and Blaine could come from _that_ , knowing Kurt’s watching and likes what he sees, _fuck_. _“But you’re going to do as I say.”_

Blaine grips the base of his cock, suddenly way too close. He turns his head, surprised.

“Wha-”

Kurt shushes him with his mouth, open and demanding and then pushes his hips into Blaine’s ass, his erection clear.

“Touch yourself for me, right now, Blaine,” Kurt says, eyes boring into Blaine’s and he moans, heat rushing through him, straight to his already straining cock. 

He complies, gripping himself and starting to stroke, just the pace he needs to come, and soon. But Kurt has other plans.

“Slow. Slow down for me, baby. Not yet. I want to see.”

Blaine whines, he can’t help it, as he slows his pace, the drag of his hand rough and _torture_ as Kurt continues in his ear.

_Do you know how many times I’ve done this this week?”_ Kurt breathes into his ear, his fingertips coming around Blaine’s chest, tracing lines of fire around his ribs and making him choke out a gasp as Kurt circles his nipples. _”Touched myself thinking of you, your...”_ Kurt pauses and Blaine can hear him gearing up to say it.

“Tell me,” he begs, rutting his ass against Kurt’s dick, keeping his strokes measured, slow. 

Kurt bites at his shoulder and lets out some soft, perfect sound of pleasure against his skin and Blaine needs to hold himself again, his cock throbbing. 

_“-your cock. In my hand-”_

Blaine gasps, rutting back and rocking into his hand, unable to stay slow. 

_“-So _fucking,_ hot, Blaine.”_

“Kurt-” Blaine is gutted, trying to hold on while Kurt rocks against him, and he can’t, he just _can’t_ with Kurt talking this way- 

_“Stop.”_

Blaine holds himself rigid at the command, Kurt’s hands on his wrists, having pulling them away as his balls throb and ache, pulled tight and close, _so_ close. He breathes. 

Kurt guides Blaine’s hands down to his own thighs and threads his fingers through Blaine’s as he ruts against his ass again, continuing. 

_You asked me every day, did I like it?”_

Blaine groans, pushed forward by the force of Kurt’s thrust. 

_Can you tell now, Blaine?”_

Blaine nods his head frantically, his hands pinned to his own thighs and his cock aching to be touched. 

_I want you every way I can have you, Blaine,”_ Kurt says, now in his right ear. _“I want my mouth on you...my tongue on you...I-”_

Blaine might just come without being touched, his nerves gone haywire from everywhere Kurt’s touching him, thrusting against him, skin on his back and hands on his thighs. 

_”Even..even_ in _you. My...my tongue and my...”_

Blaine gasps and hears himself making some soft, needy sound that he can’t explain or replicate. 

“I need, Kurt- I-” 

“Yes, okay, yeah.” Kurt lets him go and his hand is on himself, stroking in earnest as Kurt finishes his sentence. 

__“...my cock. I want to be _in_ you someday, Blaine.”_ _

He can’t control it, can’t stop himself from coming across the chaise, on the material, onto the floor. He feels Kurt stiffen behind him, shaking against his bare back and crying out as Blaine’s brain goes still and fuzzy, pleasure down to his fingertips making him mute. 

He leans back against Kurt, sweat-slick and warm, and begins laugh, soft and sated and he hears Kurt’s breathing calm and just keeps laughing, unable to stop the electric joy coursing through him at the moment. 

“What is it?” the smile in Kurt’s voice like bright stars and sweet sunshine, at least in Blaine’s estimation. 

“You _know_ how to be sexy.” Blaine says simply. 

And Kurt laughs, too. 


End file.
